Fracture
by LadyWallace
Summary: AU for 4x16 "On the Head of a Pin" Alastair wasn't supposed to be able to get out of that devil's trap. He wasn't supposed to be able to chain Castiel up when the angel stepped between Dean and the demon. Dean wasn't supposed to break the First Seal and yet it seems like nothing is going the way it should today.


**Yet another "On the Head of a Pin" AU because I can't be stopped! ;) Some lines taken from the episode.**

**Thanks to Aini NuFire for helping out with this one ^_^**

Fracture

A Supernatural Fanfic

Dean felt ice in his veins. All the turmoil in him about this situation vanished in an instant with Alastair's words—now the only thing echoing in his head: _you broke the first seal, you broke the first seal. You started this. You started _all_ of this. _

He turned his back on the captive demon, unable to breathe. His blood pounded through him, loud in his ears as he fought to hold onto himself and his quickly slipping composure, fought to make sense of any of this.

"We had to break the first Seal before all the others; only way we could get the dominoes to fall right," Alastair went on. "Topple the one at the front of the line."

Dean's hand, the one not clenched white around the demon blade, was shaking and he reached out to steady himself on the cart of torture implements. He could feel Alastair's eyes boring into his back, the bastard knowing well enough that of all the things he had done to Dean, of all the hours of torment and agony, this was the thing that ultimately hurt him most.

"When we win," Alastair hissed and Dean could tell he was grinning. "When we bring on the Apocalypse and burn this earth to the ground…we'll owe it all to you—Dean Winchester."

Dean closed his eyes and tried to gather himself. What the hell was he supposed to do with this? How the hell was he supposed to even _live_ with this?

"Believe me, I wouldn't lie about this," Alastair continued. "It's sort of a…religious thing with me."

"No," Dean finally forced out through his constricting throat. "I don't think you are lying." And he didn't. Why would Alastair lie about that? He was surprised the demon hadn't told him earlier. He clutched the demon killing knife even harder in his hand. He brought it up, glancing down at the bloodied blade, and felt a little of his steel returning through the haze of shock. He may not be able to change the deed now, but he could take out the demon responsible for breaking him, damn what the angels wanted. He had told Cas not to make him do this in the first place. Killing Alastair—that, at least, was something Dean thought he could still manage.

"But even if the demons do win," he said. "You're not gonna be there to see it."

He spun around, ready to simply plunge the dagger into Alastair's chest and be done with this whole thing. Cas and Uriel could be pissed at him if they wanted to be but there was no way Dean was going to endure another second of this. He had told them it was a terrible idea, and he had been right. But for a totally different reason than he had originally thought.

However, the instant he turned, he found Alastair right behind him, grinning. No more chains, the devil's trap not holding him. He blanched, terror overtaking all his instincts in the moment.

"You should talk to your plumber about the pipes," Alastair smirked and swung his fist at Dean.

Dean went down, his blade clattering onto the floor. He tried to haul himself back up, scrambling for the blade, determined to fight back, but Alastair kicked him in the ribs and sent him sprawling back onto the floor.

Alastair reached down and grabbed Dean by the front of his shirt, hauling him onto his knees and delivered several more punches to Dean's face. Each one was so heavy that Dean nearly blacked out each time, flailing weakly in the demon's grasp as blood dripped down his face and the back of his throat from a damaged nose. He received another kick to the stomach and collapsed, gasping, all the air knocked out of his lungs.

Alastair _tsked_ and shook his head, reaching down again, this time to grab Dean around the throat.

"You've got a lot to learn, boy," Alastair sneered, wrenching Dean up effortlessly and throwing him back against the metal frame of the trap the demon had previously been chained to. Dean sagged down into a sitting position, his legs jelly, before Alastair hauled him back up by the front of his shirt, lifting him off his feet and slamming him hard against the frame. "So, I'll see you back in class, bright and early Monday morning."

He closed a hand around Dean's throat and Dean clawed at him as Alastair applied more pressure, threatening to crush his windpipe.

But the demon was suddenly wrenched backwards, involuntarily letting go of Dean who collapsed back onto his hands and knees.

"You," Alastair snarled.

"Step away from the Winchester boy, Alastair."

Dean gasped in air, rubbing his throat as he looked up just in time to see Castiel stab the demon knife into Alastair's shoulder.

Alastair shouted and shoved the angel away from him. He looked down at the knife and chuckled. "Well, almost; looks like God is on my side today."

Cas' face twisted in what Dean could only describe as righteous fury and he thrust out a hand, using his mojo to twist the blade. Alastair growled at the pain, but simply reached up and pulled the blade from his flesh, tossing it to one side.

Cas gave a determined look and stood his ground as Alastair lunged forward with a furious cry.

Dean could only watch, crouched on his knees as the two supernatural beings duked it out. They seemed evenly matched even though Alastair was wounded, and Dean suddenly realized that he should try to grab the knife, help Cas out.

He forced himself to focus on crawling toward where Alastair had thrown it, his body protesting every movement.

He looked up again just in time to see Cas force Alastair to the ground with a particularly powerful punch before the demon snarled, and surged upright, grabbing Cas by the front of his coat and ramming him back against a girder. A nail stuck out of it and the demon slammed the angel against it, effectively impaling him.

Dean's breath caught in his throat as he watched a brief flash of pain wash over Cas's face, but Alastair gripped the angel's throat, crowding into him.

"Like cockroaches, you celestials," the demon sneered. "But you particularly…_Castiel_…I'm really getting tired of you trying to take my best student from me."

Cas grabbed at Alastair's hands, trying to loosen his grip. "Dean Winchester is not—" He choked as Alastair closed his hand like a vice around Cas' throat, tutting and waving a finger at him.

"Oh, he's mine, well and truly mine, halo. And I'll prove it to you."

Dean had gotten to the knife by now and he reached for it, only to have it skid all the way across the room. He glanced up at Alastair.

"Stay there, Dean. You're not going to want to miss this next part."

"Dean, run," Cas croaked.

Alastair slammed Cas' head back against the metal girder several times, until the angel's eyes rolled up into his head, blood matting his hair, then the demon finally let him fall, collapsing in a heap on the ground. Alastair knelt and reached into Cas' coat, feeling around.

Dean finally managed to get to his feet, standing shakily, one arm curled protectively around his bruised ribs. "Alastair, what are you doing?" he demanded, looking over to see how far away the dagger was and how hard it would be to get at it.

Alastair chuckled. "You just stay right there, Dean, especially if you're not going to help." Dean found himself stuck fast in place, and grunted in frustration and not a little fear. He didn't know what the hell was going to happen next, he just knew it wasn't going to be good.

Alastair growled and shoved Cas onto his face. The angel pawed weakly at him, coming to, but Alastair slammed his head against the ground, and Cas fell limp again. The demon yanked the trench coat and suit jacket from the angel's shoulders, and shook them. There was a metallic clatter and one of the shiny three-sided blades Dean had seen the angels use fell out of Cas' coat.

Alastair grinned, tossing the coats aside and picked it up. "Ah, there we go. Now we can actually have some real fun."

He straightened up and hauled Cas' limp figure up and over into the devil's trap. The angel groaned and struggled weakly as Alastair slammed his back against the metal frame and began wrapping the chains around Cas' arms, fixing him in the same position the demon had been in only minutes before. Cas' body sagged, his head lolling for a second before Alastair slapped him across the face, pressing the edge of the angel blade under his chin and forcing Cas' head up.

"Look at me, halo, I don't have all day."

Cas blinked his eyes open and fixed Alastair with a wrathful glower. "You think you can hold me with this?"

Alastair chuckled, reaching out to trace a finger over the chains. Runes lit up, following the path of his finger. "Actually, I do, as you're well aware. I'd like to thank you for going with the extra precautionary measures of using Enochian binding magic on the chains…very powerful. And capable of holding both angels and demons. Now me, I'm too powerful for them to hold me long with the trap broken, but you, little solider, you I beleive it will hold long enough."

Dean watched all this helplessly, trying to move but still in Alastair's hold. He had no idea what was going to happen now. He actually almost wished Uriel would show up. If nothing else, Junkless seemed to hate demons enough that he would probably gank Alastair on principle.

Cas shifted in the chains, his jaw clenched tight, but he held his head up defiantly despite the blade Alastair was pressing into his windpipe. "And what do you think you're going to get out of me?" he growled.

Alastair chuckled, moving the blade to one side in a mime of slitting the angel's throat. "Oh, frankly, I don't care if I get anything out of you. Truly all I want is the satisfaction of carving up the angel who thought himself so bold as to break into my workplace and steal my best apprentice." Dean's skin crawled as the demon turned his gaze over toward him for a brief moment. "I'm so glad you decided to bring him back to me. Not really the best idea on your part, now was it? I mean, come on, how did you really think this was all going to end?"

Cas glowered at him. "I am not the only angel in the vicinity. They will sense something is wrong and then they will come and smite you."

"Ooh, don't make promises you can't keep—I hate a tease," Alastair said mockingly, tracing the blade over Cas' face. "I don't think anyone will be coming today, halo. Not for you."

He sliced the blade down Cas' cheek and the angel turned away with a wince, the brief flare of blue light disappearing almost instantly in his wound before it began to bleed, dripping off his chin.

"Mmm, yes," Alastair said with obvious pleasure. "See how they bleed like everyone else, Dean-o?" He turned back to Cas and grabbed a rough fistful of his hair. "Now, halo, I might not have any questions for you, but I think Dean does. Why don't you come over here, my boy? This will be the first of many lessons we will have until I can get you back into shape."

When Dean refused to move even though the demon mojo had lifted, Alastair strode over with an impatient sigh and grabbed his arm, hauling him into the devil's trap. Once there, the demon gripped his shoulder and drew the still resisting hunter forward as Cas watched warily.

"I don't have any questions," Dean said, his skin practically writhing from being this close to Alastair in such a familiar, dreaded position. It had almost been easier before when the demon had been beating the crap out of him. It had always been easier when it had been Alastair doling out the pain and Dean taking it. He'd realized that after picking up the knife for the first time. That there actually was a worse alternative to the torture itself.

"Do you not?" Alastair inquired, raising an eyebrow. "How about that little topic we were discussing earlier? Surely you want to fact check it with the angels, make sure I was indeed telling the truth."

Dean felt ice run through his veins again and he didn't miss the pleasure Alastair exuded at his discomfort. He shook his head, clearing his throat and forcing words from his suddenly dry mouth. "That's not…"

Alastair sighed and turned to Cas, gripping his hair again as he pressed the blade into the hollow of the angel's throat. "Fine, if you're too shy, I'll ask for you. Castiel, is there something you halos forgot to mention to Dean? About the First Seal?"

The way Cas' body stiffened at just the mention of it was answer enough and Dean felt the new dread of inevitability settle into his gut. Cas stared at Dean with something almost like a hint of pity and Alastair pressed the blade in enough to force a drop of blood to flow down into the collar of Cas' shirt.

"Tell him, halo," Alastair hissed. "Tell the boy what he really did. What you failed to save him from."

There was something akin to a look of distress on Cas' face at that. "Dean…" he began, then seemed unsure of how to continue.

Dean shook his head, unable to wait any longer, already in enough turmoil. "Cas, is it true?" he demanded. "Did I do it? Did I…" he swallowed hard, trying to get a hold on his emotions. "Did I start this whole thing?" he finished in a hushed voice, emotion choking him.

Cas looked at him with true pity this time and Dean shook his head in fury, running his hands over his hair. "Son of a bitch!" he clenched his hands at his sides, taking a step toward the captive angel. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

"Because in the long run it didn't matter. Your mission didn't change," Cas told him.

"Didn't matter?" Dean demanded. "I started the fricken' apocalypse! That's kind of a big deal! You didn't even think to mention that fact? I thought we…" he cut himself off, jaw clenched. He couldn't finish that thought, not here with Alastair. He simply shook his head. After all, hadn't Cas just told him he'd been knocked down in rank just for being friendly with him and Sam? The guy probably didn't want anything to do with him anymore aside from telling Dean what he was supposed to do.

"Mmm," Alastair hummed, obviously enjoying the show. "See, Dean, this is what you get trying to make friends with angels. And they say demons lie." He rolled his eyes with a smirk. "At least with me you know what to ultimately expect. And I never did lie to you, did I, my boy?"

Dean looked away, fury surging through him that he didn't know what to do with, fury and maybe even betrayal. He should have known there was more to this. But then why the hell bother saving him? To repay his sins no matter that he had committed them unknowingly?

"I know it hurts, Dean," Alastair said, a hand on his shoulder. "But we'll make it better. This angel took you away from me, used you, tried to get you to befriend him, but he was lying to you this whole time." The demon turned back to Cas and started pulling on the tie the angel wore, slipping it off and unbuttoning the first couple buttons on his shirt. "I'll make him scream for it, I promise." He slashed the blade across Cas' chest and the angel let out a sharp breath, but didn't make a sound otherwise.

Dean's jaw clenched. He was pissed, sure, but he didn't want to see Cas hurt either. However, anything he did he was sure would only make it worse for both of them. He thought maybe if he could play Alastair, he may be able to find a way to get both him and Cas out of here.

"Tough one, aren't you, Castiel?" Alastair smirked. "Well, I've fought angels before, yes, I have, and you're not so much. Not even a seraph. And not even a captain anymore either, are you? Not like you were when you came to Hell for Dean. It must hurt to be knocked down in rank and all because you took a liking to a pathetic human." He chuckled as Cas shifted uncomfortably. "I bet you thought I wouldn't be able to hear your conversations in the next room, didn't you?" He pressed the blade against Cas' shoulder in the exact spot that the angel had stabbed Alastair earlier. He twisted slightly, digging into the flesh, causing Cas to pull at his chains. "You're just as pathetic as all the rest of your insufferable species." He slammed the blade completely through Cas' shoulder then, and this time the angel was unable to hold back the cry of pain, his eyes blowing wide. Dean winced to see the sparks of angelic grace in the wound.

Cas let out another ragged moan as Alastair slowly pulled the blade out and the angel's head clanged back against the metal frame, eyes closing. He panted heavily as blood gushed from the wound and painted his whole left side red.

"See what I mean, Dean? Pathetic. Can you believe this pitiful excuse for a warrior actually managed to take you from me? I find it hard to believe myself. I think he just got lucky." Alastair's face darkened and he dragged the angel blade over Cas' ribs, spilling more blood as the angel shuddered and winced. "Still don't know what he and the other halos wanted with your sorry hide. Especially if they just ended up doing the same thing with you as I did." He jostled Cas with a chuckle before turning to smile chillingly at Dean. "Or maybe they just saw the lost cause you really are. See, Dean, even Castiel knows the only thing you're good for is carving up people. Remember, he saw what you did for me in the Pit; he knows your uses."

Dean clenched his jaw and looked away. He wouldn't let Alastair bait him, but with the revelation about the Seal…

"Why the hell _did_ you get me out?" Dean had to ask, staring directly at the angel now. "I obviously wasn't any good. I'd already broken."

"Because you are the Righteous Man," Cas said simply, his voice rough with pain. "It's your destiny to ultimately stop the apocalypse. You're the only one who can do it."

Dean's chest tightened. "And yet there wouldn't be an apocalypse if I hadn't gotten off the rack, right? Hadn't broken the First Seal? Why the hell didn't you get to me sooner?"

"We tried," Cas grated out, and Dean saw the weariness, the acceptance on his face. "Dean, it's our fault the Seal was broken, you cannot be held responsible for that."

Dean let out a humorless chuckle. "Yeah, well, you'll forgive me if I don't exactly see it that way."

"I would never wish that guilt on you, Dean," Cas said firmly, meeting the hunter's eyes. "But you also have to understand that we had our orders and all we could do was follow them."

Alastair chuckled. "Oh, you angels, far more hilarious than you think you are. Dean is still mine, it's obvious, isn't it? How he stands here, not bothering to intervene as I carve you up? You may have pulled him from the Pit but he left part of himself there, and that part has always been mine and always will be."

Castiel glowered at Alastair. "Dean Winchester is not yours. I laid claim to his soul in Hell. He is under my protection. You no longer have any claim on him."

Alastair scoffed. "Please. Like your little mark means anything. I left my own marks on Dean and mine go so…much…deeper." He sliced the blade slowly down Castiel's sternum, cutting deep and gaining a groan from the angel.

Dean subconsciously put a hand to the handprint scar on his shoulder. He saw Cas look up at him as he did as if the angel knew what he was thinking. His soul may be claimed by Heaven now, but Dean knew Alastair was right. There were marks, scars, from Hell that would never go away, no matter how much help he got from angelic quarters, no matter that Cas had put his body back together. It could not erase what he had done down there. All the agony he had caused, the despair. How he had broken.

Alastair reached out and rested a hand on the back of Dean's neck, squeezing just enough to make the gesture threatening. "Come now, Dean. Don't you want to reclaim your fame? It was easier down there, wasn't it? No apocalypse to stop, just souls to carve up, and don't pretend you didn't enjoy it, because I know you did. It just feels good to make others suffer the same as you did. That's just a natural reaction. I bet you would feel good embracing it again. Maybe find a bit of yourself that's been missing since you got back?"

Dean shuddered, looking away, his jaw clenching.

The demon nodded to the chained-up angel. "How about you start here and now? I promise when I take you back to the Pit you won't spend a second on the rack; you can simply go right back to being my apprentice. And what better way to restart your training than to skin the angel responsible for taking you from me to begin with? For dragging you into this."

Dean's mouth was dry as he watched Castiel, trying to read what the angel was thinking but Cas was impassive, seeming to be waiting for whatever Dean decided. That unnerved Dean a little as if this were a test. Finally he shook his head, finding his voice again.

"This is your revenge, Alastair, not mine," he said.

Alastair sighed, reaching out to grab Castiel by the hair again, yanking his head back as the tip of the blade found his throat. "Come on, Dean, you don't even want a little try? This pigeon lied to you, kept that truth from you." He traced the blade down to Cas' stomach. "You've got to want to see him squirm—hear him scream." He drove the blade with slow deliberation into Cas' abdomen and the angel let out a choked cry. He then let out his first full-fledged scream as Alastair twisted the blade, scrambling his insides. Grace flared out from the wound and Alastair yanked the blade out, blood spattering onto the ground.

Cas sagged, blood dripping from his mouth as he choked, chest heaving.

"See how pretty angels scream, Dean?" Alastair smirked, gripping Castiel's bloody chin as the angel's eyes slit open and his head lolled. "You know, I don't think you'd hesitate so much if you knew what they had planned for your brother."

Even more dread slammed through Dean and he spun toward the demon despite himself. "What?"

"Oh, yes, they need you to stop the apocalypse sure enough," Alastair said, mockingly tracing the blade over Cas' torso, making tiny cuts here and there, keeping the angel flinching. "But what do you think your brother's role will be if you are the Righteous Man? After all, he's just the boy with the demon blood. Why, I bet given half the chance, your faithful Castiel here would kill darling Sammy himself."

Dean's eyes flew up to meet Cas' who was looking at him.

"Dean…" the angel croaked.

"Don't lie to my boy," Alastair snarled making another cut down Cas' cheek. "You want the truth, Dean, you know how to get it. I bet you'll be more successful with this sniveling milksop than with me, don't you think? Come on, I know you want to know about their plans for Sammy."

"Why don't you tell me then?" Dean asked, finally turning to meet the demon's eyes. "You know…since we're such good pals."

Alastair chuckled. "Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean, I can't help but like you, boy. But you also need to show some respect. I'll let it slide this time, but that won't fly when we're back in the Pit. However, I don't know the whole story either, so if you want the truth, you may want to check with the source."

"There's nothing to tell, Alastair," Cas growled, then gasped sharply as a slice came across the ribs.

Alastair _tsked_. "Now, I know that's not true, halo." He turned to Dean and gently placed the angel blade into his palm, wrapping Dean's fingers around it. "What do you say, Deano? Want a go? I would if I were you. Especially if you want to protect sweet little Sammy from the destiny the angels have set for him."

Dean's head was whirling. First the information about the First Seal and now this bombshell about Sam and the angel's plans for him? What the hell was he supposed to think? What the hell was he supposed to believe? He was sure that Cas wouldn't do anything to hurt Sam, but yet…he had told Dean to stop Sam using his psychic powers or the angels would. He'd sent Dean back in time to show him how Sam had gotten those powers from Yellow-Eyes. Uriel obviously thought Sam was an abomination and not worth saving but did all the angels think that? Did _Cas_ think that?

The demon reached out to take Dean's shoulder, guiding him closer to the captive angel. "Why don't you take the blade for a test run, Dean. I'll never get tired of seeing your walls come down and showing me who you really are. What you're really willing to do. You're at your best when you're letting your true self shine through and you know it. Come on." He nudged Dean a little closer. "Try the blade out. It does as much for angels as that pig-sticker you love so much does for demons."

Dean tightened his grip around the blade, for the first time really realizing he was holding it as he came back to himself and the situation at hand, trying to fight off the encroaching flashbacks from Hell and thoughts of Sammy in possible danger. Memories of the first time he had taken a knife from Alastair. Memories of Sam exorcising demons with his mind and how he knew that couldn't really be a good thing.

He turned back to Cas then, the angel already covered in blood and looking on the verge of unconsciousness. Cas was watching him as if waiting to see what he would do next. Dean swallowed hard, the blade still held in his hand. He brought it up and saw a brief flicker of uncertainty in Castiel's eyes but he made no move.

"That's right, Dean, you remember. Just like riding a bike," Alastair coaxed him, hovering too close behind the hunter.

Dean fought a shudder, and met Cas' eyes again. His head was clearing, and with that a plan was forming. He gripped the blade tighter and tried to convey his intentions to Castiel. The angel stared back at him almost resignedly and gave a barely perceptible nod.

"Do it," he croaked. "If that's what you think you need to do."

Dean caught the double meaning in his words and gave the tiniest nod back, feeling a bit of relief that his message had been received. Cas was on level with him, he was just waiting for Dean's signal.

And Dean, with new resolve, took the plunge.

He reached out, grabbing Cas by the front of his blood-soaked shirt and raised the blade as if to start carving into the angel, but instead whipped around and stabbed it into Alastair.

The demon howled in shock and rage, staggering back as Dean yanked the blade from him. Dean cursed. He hadn't had time to aim and he'd struck low, between Alastair's ribs instead of directly into his heart. A wound that could kill a human, but not a high-ranking demon like Alastair.

"You!" Alastair spat, his face twisted with rage. "You choose this pathetic creature over me?"

Dean straightened his shoulders, hand tightening around the blade. "Yeah, well, I guess I'm kind of on their side now. Sorry I didn't bother to give the two weeks' notice."

Alastair shook his head, chuckling with no humor. "You insolent little wretch. If they want you they can come back to Hell to find you. I'm going to tear you apart, boy, and then I'm going to drag you back to my rack myself." He flung his hand out and Dean felt the power slam into his chest, sending him flying back into the wall, the breath punching from his lungs and causing agony to rip through his bruised ribs from earlier.

"You lost your chance at going back as just my apprentice," Alastair said, advancing on Dean. "I see you need another lesson in obedience and you're going to have to feel my blade to learn properly."

Dean grunted as he tried to maneuver the angel blade that was still in his hand, but Alastair sneered and grabbed his wrist, twisting it until Dean was forced to release the blade. Alastair shook his head. "It's a shame, really. I can see I'm going to have to work you over thoroughly again." He reached out and grabbed Dean's throat, smirking behind him at Cas who was jerking weakly on his chains. "And your angel can't save you this time."

Dean choked just as the door to the room slammed open.

"No, but I can."

Dean's eyes widened, as Sam burst through the door, snatching up the demon blade that had been thrown to that side of the room.

"Sammy, no," Dean croaked.

Alastair chuckled and turned fully to Sam. "Well, well, well—little Sammy. We were just talking about you. Just in time to see me drag your brother back to Hell."

Sam gripped the blade, taking a fighting stance. "Yeah, not gonna happen."

Alastair let go of Dean and the elder Winchester slumped to the ground, gasping for breath. He watched in horror as the demon turned to his little brother and waved a hand. Sam staggered but wasn't flung across the room.

"Hmm, still have a little juice in you?" Alastair asked. "But do you have enough to kill me, boy?"

Sam smiled. "I don't need my powers to kill you, Alastair."

He lunged forward, slashing with the knife. Dean scrambled around for the dropped angel blade and climbed to his feet as Alastair started laughing.

"You Winchesters, always so bold, but you have the bad habit of biting off more than you can chew." He lashed out and grabbed Sam by the wrist, forcing the knife away from his flesh and then snagged his throat with his other hand, slamming Sam back against the wall.

Sam struggled, but it didn't seem to phase Alastair. The demon only smirked at him. "I'd take you with us, but I think you'll be much more useful up here."

Dean snarled and lunged, stabbing Alastair in the back with the angel blade. The demon howled and spun around, slammed his fist into the side of Dean's face. But he'd taken a mortal blow and Sam brought the demon knife up to finish him off, as Alastair collapsed onto his knees.

"Wait," Dean said through clenched teeth. He raised the bloody angel blade and looked down at Alastair's expectant face. "I'll do it."

Alastair chuckled. "You'll never escape Hell, Dean. Not really. You'll never escape what you have become—what you really are."

"Shut up," Dean snapped. "You don't define me and you don't own me. Neither do the angels. But I will tell you this, Alastair, I'll sleep better knowing you at least are no longer part of this world." And then he stabbed the demon in the throat.

Alastair gurgled, eyes sparking, a hand clawed out toward Dean but the hunter slapped it aside and yanked the blade from the demon's throat. He set a boot into the center of Alastair's chest and shoved his convulsing body to the ground where it sparked out, leaving nothing but an empty meatsuit behind.

Dean was breathing heavily, his knuckles white around the hilt of the blade. He jumped as Sam put a hand on his shoulder.

"Dean? Are you okay?"

He took a shuddering breath, trying to steady himself. "I'm better knowing he's dead," he said honestly.

Sam nodded, squeezing his shoulder as Dean turned back to Cas who was slumping heavily in the chains.

"Sam, help me," he said quietly, moving over.

Sam's eyes widened as he suddenly realized the angel's position and hurried over to the devil's trap with Dean as they fought with the chains trapping the angel. Cas let out a soft grunt of pain at the jostling.

"Alastair…" he murmured, looking to be a little out of it, trying to lift his head.

"Easy," Dean said. "He's dead."

Cas nodded once, finally focusing on the demon's corpse across the room.

"Hey uh…sorry we didn't get the information out of him," Dean said, wondering how the other angels would take this development. Dean was prepared to tell them to go screw themselves, but he didn't want Cas to take the flack for it.

Cas shook his head. "I don't think…Alastair had the answers we were looking for…after all."

Dean frowned as he freed one of Cas' arms and the angel slumped further against the metal frame. "What do you mean?"

But the angel's eyes were rolling up in his head and as Sam freed his other arm, Cas slipped limply down. The brothers just barely caught him before he completely collapsed, propping him against the metal frame.

Sam hurriedly reached out and felt for a pulse in Cas' neck. "Will he heal, you think?"

Dean bit his lip, glancing at the bloody angel blade that he'd dropped in the process of freeing Cas. He picked it up and wiped it on a handkerchief. "I don't know. Alastair used this angel blade on him. Seems like it's the only thing that can hurt him…" As he said that, something clicked in Dean's mind. He glanced down at the blade, then up at Sam.

"You know, I just had a thought. If these are the only things that can really hurt an angel…" he said slowly. "Then why are we looking for _demons_ to find out who's been killing them?"

Sam's eyes widened in realization. "We need to get out of here."

"We can't leave him like this," Dean said.

"Then we'll take him with us."

Dean snatched up Cas' trench coat and tucked the angel blade into the back of his belt before he and Sam slung Cas' arms around their shoulders and hefted him up. The angel was a dead weight and completely unconscious. Dean wasn't sure how bad that was, but he was pretty sure that being completely unresponsive wasn't a good thing for such a powerful being. Especially knowing from experience how hard it was to take even lower level supernatural creatures down.

Thankfully Sam had brought the Impala and they laid Cas in the backseat after throwing a blanket down to keep the blood off the leather. Dean covered the angel with the trench coat before he got into the driver's seat.

Sam looked at him dubiously. "You good to drive?"

Dean gave him a longsuffering look. "I'll be fine. A few bruises is all."

Sam sighed. "And the non-physical?"

Dean looked away, pulling away from the old factory. "Later."

Sam pressed his lips into a thin line but Dean was already driving away. There was no way he was going to have this conversation with Sam right now.

He drove until he found a motel and pulled in. He sent Sam to get a room while he glanced back at Cas. The angel still hadn't regained consciousness, and that worried him. Maybe he should have stayed to make sure the other angels came for him instead, took him back to heaven for healing or something. On the other hand, Dean didn't really want Cas to be subjected to Uriel's obvious patronization in his condition and a wound was a wound. He'd stitched up enough of them in his time.

Besides, he still had a couple questions for the angel himself.

Sam came back with the key and they carried Cas into the room, glad it was the middle of the night.

Sam dragged the covers down and put towels on top of the sheets before he helped Dean lay Cas down. Dean sighed wearily and went to grab the first aid stuff from the car as Sam began to gather cloths to clean the wounds. When Dean came back Sam was unbuttoning what was left of Cas' shirt and he turned a shade paler as he revealed the wounds in the angel's shoulder and stomach.

"Oh god," he said. "What is this?"

Dean looked over and saw that both the wounds had blue sparks fizzing in them, escaping with the blood that was still sluggishly dripping from the wounds. "Nothing good. Come on."

Together they washed the blood off of Cas, and Dean decided to go ahead and stitch the worst of the wounds since they were still bleeding.

He turned to the one in Cas' stomach, and had to swallow down bile at the sight. He couldn't do anything about the internal damage, but hopefully he could stop the bleeding and Cas would be able to heal the rest himself.

As soon as he forced the needle through skin, Cas flinched, and blinked his eyes open with a gasp, trying to sit up.

"Whoa!" Dean said as he and Sam both shot their hands out to press the angel back onto the bed.

"What…where…?" Cas looked disoriented, face pale with agony as he slumped back.

"You're safe, Cas, it's just me and Sam," Dean told him. "We're just patching you up."

The angel groped around, searching for something.

"Cas, what is it? Do you need something?" Sam asked.

"Paper, something to write with…" Cas grunted.

Sam hurriedly grabbed a pad of paper and pen from the side table and handed them to the angel. Cas groaned and pushed himself onto one elbow despite Dean's protests, scribbling something onto the paper.

"Here," he said, handing the paper to Sam, breathing heavily as if even the effort of drawing something had taken a lot out of him. "Put this sigil on the walls."

"Um, okay," Sam said, sharing a look with Dean who glanced at the paper.

"Cas, what's this for? It's not demons," Dean said with a frown.

"No, it's not." Cas glanced between them a couple times before his eyes slid shut again and his body rested heavier in the bed.

Dean set his jaw, and huffed a breath, glancing at Sam before he went back to work. "You heard him, get those sigils up."

Sam nodded and went to grab paint from their bag.

"Dean, what happened?" Sam finally asked, as he worked.

Dean closed his eyes briefly. "Alastair got out of the trap somehow…leaky pipe. It shouldn't have happened but he attacked me from behind and Cas…Cas stepped in and then Alastair overpowered him and carved him up."

"But how?" Sam asked. "That looked like a heavy duty trap."

"It was," Dean growled, forcing his hands to stop shaking so he could finish the stitches, but had to stop, hanging his head. "He messed with my head and I let him, Sammy. He told me…he told me what really happened down in Hell."

Sam gave his brother a sympathetic, yet pained, look. "Dean, you already told me about that."

"Yeah, well, apparently there's more." Dean licked his lips, and finally turned to meet his brother's eyes. "Apparently getting off the rack…I broke the First Seal. I started this, Sam. This is all on me."

"Dean…"

"I did all of this!" Dean shouted, fists clenching. "The apocalypse! _Everything!_"

"Dean," Sam said again more firmly as he crossed back to the bed and gripped Dean's shoulder. He gently moved him aside to finish the last couple stitches. "You didn't know. It's not your fault."

"You think that makes it okay?" Dean demanded. "How the hell am I going to live with this?"

"Dean…"

But Dean was already on his way to the bathroom. Everything he had been trying to push aside so he could survive was crashing in on him now that the immediate danger was gone. Alastair may be dead, but he had been right. It didn't matter whether Cas had claimed his soul or whatever the hell he had done. Alastair's legacy, the scars from Hell, that was what Dean would always be. And Alastair had been right, even the angels saw that. Saw the only thing he was _really_ good for.

He slumped, catching himself against the sink as he fought to breathe. Darkness was closing in, fighting with memories from Hell, and he fumbled with the facet, trying to get water to wash Cas' blood off his hands.

"Dean!" Arms wrapped around him and pulled him back just as he collapsed. The next thing he knew he was sitting against the wall on the dirty bathroom tiles, Sam crouched in front of him, gripping his arms.

"Dean, just breathe! You're okay."

He was as damn far from okay as it was possible to be, but Dean put in the effort to do as Sam told him. He sucked in a breath and then another until finally the darkness and the blood receded a little and his chest felt less tight. Sam sighed and sat next to him, pressing his shoulder against Dean's.

"Whatever happened, Dean, it's not your fault, and you know that," Sam said softly. "This was obviously the demons' plan all along and it doesn't change anything. We're still going to fight this."

"I don't know if I can anymore, Sammy," Dean whispered.

"Yes, you can," Sam said firmly. "Because I can't do this without you. Do you understand?"

Dean finally looked up at him; his little brother, trying to keep it together but obviously just as scared as he was. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.

"You're right," he whispered.

Sam nodded and pressed closer to Dean with a deep exhalation of breath.

They sat there for a long time before Sam finally stood up and reached down to help Dean to his feet.

"Come on. You should get cleaned up."

Dean didn't argue. He let Sam go to grab some clean clothes for him as he got into the shower, feeling the hot water work out some of the tenseness in his muscles, wash away the blood, if not the memories. He was covered in bruises and small abrasions from Alastair's beating, but it was nothing. That bastard was dead now. At least he had that to comfort him at night.

When he came out of the bathroom, he saw that Sam had finished with Cas, bandaging his injuries and pulling the blanket over the angel. Dean felt strange seeing the powerful warrior like this. Cas always seemed so…absolute. And yet Alastair had torn him up like it was nothing.

"We did what we could for him," Sam said. "I guess now we just have to wait to see if he'll heal on his own."

Dean hated being helpless, but he knew Sam was right. It wasn't like he had any medical knowledge for angels.

"Come on, Dean, try to get some rest," Sam urged.

Dean was bone weary, though he didn't have much hope of sleeping. Still, he laid down on the other bed, taking one side and letting Sam have the other. It was a shock to him when he woke several hours later to the sound of stirring and muffled grunts.

He sat up, reaching for a weapon but there was no danger in the room. Sam was still sleeping deeply at his back, half snoring.

Cas was awake though. The angel was currently attempting to sit up and peel off his bandages, tugging at the tape on the one over his shoulder, a frown between his brows.

"Hey," Dean said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and standing up.

Cas glanced over at him. "I thank you for your help with my wounds, but these are unnecessary."

Dean reached out to snatch his wrist but wasn't quick enough to stop Cas yanking the bandage off. The angel's face creased, and he frowned deeper as he saw the wound that—though looking quite a bit better than the night before—was not exactly healed.

"Or…perhaps I was wrong."

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes, grabbing the rest of the gauze and tape that they had left on the bedside table. "Uh-huh. Look, angel or not, you took some heavy hits. You're gonna need to take it easy for a little while longer."

Cas sighed in a put-upon manner, only reluctantly allowing Dean to give him a new bandage. "I don't have time to 'take it easy'. What happened with Alastair…" he pressed his lips into a thin line and shook his head. "It shed some light on the investigation that I was not expecting."

Dean glanced at him as he finished taping the new gauze over Cas' shoulder. "You think it's angels killing angels?"

Cas didn't answer, looked away, but Dean knew that was answer enough. He sighed and sat carefully on the side of the bed.

"Look, man, I don't really know what's going on with this whole angel situation, but if I'm going to work with you, I need you to be honest with me from now on."

Cas turned back to him, shaking his head slightly. "Dean, I can't make that promise."

Dean tried to keep his anger from surfacing. "Okay, then at least tell me this—because you damn well owe me that much—why me?"

"You're the Righteous Man," Cas told him simply.

"I broke the First Seal," Dean hissed.

"But you are also destined to end the apocalypse—the only one who can," Cas sighed and looked honestly regretful. "Truthfully, Dean, it was supposed to be your father, but when he escaped Hell, the demons had to find someone else, and then you went and sold your soul…either way, you would be in this fight. It's your destiny."

"And what about Sam's destiny?" Dean demanded. "What the hell is his part in all of this? Is he supposed to go Dark Side or something?"

Cas shook his head. "Honestly, Dean, I don't know. I am not privy to all the prophecies—I just know that the two of you are very important to this war." He paused then met Dean's eyes. "But for the record, I think Sam is a good man. Perhaps not all the angels share that sentiment, but I want you to know that I believe that to be true."

Dean pressed his lips into a thin line, clasping his hands in his lap as he looked over to Sam's sleeping figure. "He has a better chance of stopping this than me."

"I don't believe that's true, Dean."

Dean turned back around to look at the angel, his throat tight. "I can't do this, Cas. I'm not…I'm not strong enough."

"Dean…"

"Alastair was right," Dean gritted out. "I still have scars from Hell and I can't see past them. Part of me will always be a product of what he made me into."

"But another part, a bigger part of you, is not," Cas told him firmly. "I see your soul, Dean, I pulled it out of Perdition, you are a good man, and you will find the strength you need to win this war."

Dean snorted, turning his head aside.

"And you won't be alone," Cas continued. "You'll have your brother. And you'll have me. No matter what the other angels say."

Dean glanced back at him, eyebrows raised. The rebellion in the angel's eyes was plain, but so was the determination. Dean recalled one of their first conversations, in the park when Cas had told him he wasn't a hammer. For the first time, Dean saw that he was right.

"Something is going on in Heaven—I have reason to believe that the orders are no longer coming from God." Cas bit his lip and looked aside, helpless, but resolved. "I think it might be best for me to choose a side now."

"You think Anna was right?" Dean asked quietly.

"I know she left for a reason. It took me a while to understand it, but now I believe I do," Cas said.

Dean nodded and reached out to grip Cas' uninjured shoulder. "Well, I for one am going to be glad to have you on our side."

Cas nodded back and Dean stood, going to wake up Sam. It was time they got back to work.


End file.
